


First Necessity

by voleuse



Category: La Femme Nikita
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-10
Updated: 2005-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-04 10:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>They will tell you I never lived here.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	First Necessity

**Author's Note:**

> Post-S1, no spoilers. Title and summary adapted from Margaret Atwood's _Roominghouse, Winter_.

Michael shoves her against the wall, presses his lips against her throat, under the collar of her jacket.

Nikita closes her eyes, shivers as his hand trails up her leg, under her skirt.

_There are cameras_, she reminds herself. _This is a mission._

Michael nips at the curve of her ear, and she bites back a moan.

Every movement she makes is an exercise in restraint.

*

 

Eventually, of course, the building's security guards interrupt them. That was the point, an integral part of the plan.

Nikita pulls her sweater down and curses whichever Section profiler decided sex was the most efficient diversion.

In any normal office building, they'd be escorted through a back door. Given the nature of the company, however, they're instead prodded into an elevator, and up several stories. It's a long march, and a long wait.

Michael, she notices, doesn't look at her at all.

She decides she can be smug about that.

It's a small consolation.

*

 

The security team, idiotically, leaves them alone in an office. From that point, it's a simple matter to hack into the company's mainframe, retrieve the data they need, and rappel out the window to a convenient balcony a few stories below.

A coincidental car accident on the street blocks off their point of egress, so they veer to a side street and slip into a busy cafe.

"Coffee?" Michael asks as he scans the room.

Nikita peruses the menu on the board behind the counter. "An espresso would be good."

Michael orders for the both of them. When the coffee arrives, Nikita drains her cup quickly, hoping the caffeine will soothe her nerves.

No such luck, she discovers, because Michael leans over her shoulder and her skin begins to buzz anew.

"One of the guards just passed the window," he murmurs into her hair.

Nikita smiles, feigns to giggle, and looks around. She twists her head and places a kiss under his chin.

"Bathrooms in the back," she says against his skin.

He nods and, hands linked, they make their way to the back.

*

 

Nikita slides the lock shut, strips off her jacket. Yanks her sweater over her head, ties it around her waist, leaving her clad in just a camisole. She loops her hair into a sloppy braid, pockets her sunglasses and smudges her mascara.

And Michael watches her, a smile on his face.

"Aren't you worried?" she asks.

He tilts his head. "Section is tracking our movements. They'll extract us soon."

"Right." She leans her back against the door. "So what do we do until then?"

His smile deepens, and she raises her eyebrows.

"Michael?"

He catches her wrists and pulls her against him.

She manages not to moan.

*

 

After the debriefing, Madeline catches Nikita as she's leaving.

"Could I ask you something?"

Nikita pauses by the door, turns. "Yes?"

"Birkoff tells me there was a deviation in the mission." Madeline folds her hands together. "How did you handle it?"

Nikita smiles. "It's all in the debriefing."

"Yes," Madeline replies. "I'd like to hear it from you."

"We took a side street to a restaurant. Stayed in the back until the van arrived." Nikita shrugs. "No big deal."

Madeline gazes at her, inquiry shadowing her face. "Nothing out of the ordinary?"

"Nothing at all." Nikita smiles again, more warmly. "Can I go?"

"Of course."

As she turns away, Michael appears in the doorway. "Nikita," he greets her.

"Michael." She can feel Madeline watching them. "Good night."

If his hand brushes against hers as they pass each other, it's completely by accident.

That's what she tells herself, anyway.


End file.
